


Natural Genius

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Rule 63 'verse [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some genius is natural; some genius is the result of hard work.</p><blockquote>
  <p>"And you're the very soul of practicality," Takao says, amused, winding the locks of Shin-chan's hair around her fingers and palm. </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Genius

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I will sit down and tell y'all all about girl!Midorima and girl!Takao's adventures. This is not that day. Today is the day for me to tell you about girl!Midorima and girl!Takao fucking each other silly. Genderswap, smut, 2844 words; an outgrowth of this drabble [right here](http://annotated-em.tumblr.com/post/38884771232/are-you-kidding-two-of-my-favorite-things-in-one).

"You know," Takao says, "You could really do some interesting things with all this." She's got her hands in Midorima's hair, working her fingers through the length of it and carding out the perpetual braids that Midorima wears. It falls in heavy, silky waves over her palms, still damp even though it's been hours since Midorima showered, and the scent of Midorima's shampoo still lingers in it. "Why don't you?"

Midorima doesn't rush to answer, and only shrugs when she does. "Braids are practical."

"And you're the very soul of practicality," Takao says, amused, winding the locks of Shin-chan's hair around her fingers and palm. It's so very sleek; it's a good thing she's gotten used to not being jealous of Midorima, because she can't get her own hair to grow out past her chin without it turning into a wispy mess. 

"I am _very_ practical." Midorima says it like she believes it, too, which just makes Takao giggle. "I _am_."

"Of course you are," Takao says, unwinding her fingers from Shin-chan's hair and drawing it aside. She presses her lips against the nape of Midorima's neck and feels more than hears the quick breath Midorima takes. "Absolutely practical," she murmurs, letting her lips brush against Midorima's skin with every syllable. "But you'll leave it down for me, won't you?"

"It's going to get all tangled up," Shin-chan says, but her voice is dropping and turning husky.

"I'll brush it out for you," Takao promises her. She presses another kiss against Shin-chan's nape, parting her lips so she can tease the tip of her tongue against Shin-chan's skin. 

Midorima shudders and leans back against her. "If you insist, I suppose there's no point in arguing over it." Which is Shin-chan's way of giving in without feeling like she's lost anything, Takao knows. 

"There really isn't," she agrees, brushing her lips along Shin-chan's nape and reaching around her to gather Shin-chan against her. Sitting like this, it's almost like undoing her own blouse as she unbuttons Midorima's blouse and slips her hands inside it. Shin-chan takes another of those quick, sharp breaths as Takao cups hers breasts, stroking the slope of them through the sturdy fabric of her sports bra—another nod to practicality, that, and a very great pity in Takao's opinion. One of these days she's going to introduce Shin-chan to the joys of pretty lingerie, if it kills her. But for now she fondles Shin-chan and doesn't complain that such a lovely pair of breasts deserves silk and lace instead of plain cotton and lycra. Takao would be jealous of Shin-chan here, too, because Shin-chan manages to have a lovely full figure in spite of how hard she trains, but frankly she loves Shin-chan's breasts too much to care that she's a lot flatter herself. 

She mouths the smooth skin of Shin-chan's nape, breathing in the scent of her hair and listening as Shin-chan begins to take deeper breaths that sigh out of her slowly, until one catches in her throat on a soft sound, nearly a moan. When Shin-chan says her name, her voice is almost rough, and it's one part demand and one part request. Takao smiles against her nape, pleased, and pulls away enough to slide the blouse off Shin-chan's shoulders—soft, pale skin over solid muscle, because Shin-chan is nothing if not a study in contrasts—and strip that ugly sports bra off as well. She sheds her own shirt and bra (pale pink silk, thanks, with lace) while she's at it, but Shin-chan anticipates Takao when she reaches for her again. Shin-chan turns a bit to meet her, twisting around and catching Takao's shoulder as she leans in to kiss Takao.

That's fine, too. Takao opens her mouth to Shin-chan, kissing back and humming to her as she slides her arms around Shin-chan again. It's much nicer to have Shin-chan's skin against hers and Shin-chan's breasts bare under her fingers, anyway, and she likes the way Shin-chan gasps when she curls her fingers around the warm curve of her breast and strokes her thumb against the nipple, rubbing slow circles against it while she sucks on Shin-chan's tongue. Shin-chan tightens her grip on Takao's shoulder, arching a little against the way Takao is handling her, and moans outright when Takao kisses her throat. Takao drinks the sound of that in and mouths the place where Shin-chan's pulse is beating fast, tracing circles there with her tongue as she pinches the taut peak of Shin-chan's breast between her fingers. 

Shin-chan shudders, gasping her name, and gasps it again when Takao sets her other hand on her knee and slides it up the inside of Shin-chan's thigh. "I can—" she begins, but Takao's not particularly interested in whatever it is she's planning on offering. She strokes her fingers up and cups them between Shin-chan's thighs, pressing her palm against her and kneading firmly. Shin-chan's already hot for her, the plain practical cotton of her underwear damp beneath Takao's palm. She slumps against Takao with a moan; Takao grinds her palm against Shin-chan, fondling her breasts and nuzzling the loose fall of her hair as Shin-chan begins to pant for breath and rock her hips against the pressure of Takao's hand. It takes a little while, but Takao doesn't mind that in the slightest—what could be better than holding Shin-chan like this and listening to the breathy little moans and gasps that every shift of Takao's palm coaxes out of her? Not a whole lot, far as Takao is concerned, though one of the things that _is_ better is the open, husky note in Shin-chan's voice when she shakes against Takao's shoulder, her hips bucking as she comes undone with Takao's name on her tongue. 

Takao likes the way Shin-chan goes boneless just after she comes and likes the way Shin-chan allows herself to be eased down, settled against the pillow with all that glorious tumble of her hair spread out beneath her. She has to take a second to appreciate the way Shin-chan looks, the fan of her lashes fluttering against her cheeks and the quick rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath, but looking only ever leads to wanting to touch with Takao. She can't help leaning down to taste the sheen of sweat along the delicate wing of Shin-chan's collarbone or stroking her fingers along the softness of Shin-chan's breasts, and she doesn't bother trying to stop herself. 

Shin-chan shivers beneath her. "What are you _doing_?" she demands, though she doesn't quite manage to make it peremptory—probably can't, not when her breath hitches and bobbles as Takao traces her lips down the line of her breastbone. "Takao—" 

"Shh," Takao says. She pillows her cheek against Shin-chan's breast and smiles at her. "Just enjoy the moment, will you?"

The expression that crosses Shin-chan's face is pretty amazing, if Takao _does_ say so for herself. Before Shin-chan can gather herself enough to launch into whichever rant she's brewing up, Takao turns her head and runs her mouth over the curve of Shin-chan's breast, lipping at it softly, and closes her lips around the nipple. Shin-chan forgets whatever it was she'd been meaning to say and her head falls back against the pillow as she groans. Takao takes that for the encouragement that it is and strokes the flat of her tongue against her nipple, coaxing it taut again while she slides her fingers back and forth against its partner. Shin-chan groans again, wordless, and that is definitely a good sound. So is the way she slides her fingers into Takao's hair, holding her there instead of pushing her away, so Takao keeps going, mouthing her and stroking her until Shin-chan is tossing her head against the pillow and her skin is slick with fresh sweat beneath Takao's fingers. 

She makes a sound, practically bereft, when Takao lifts her mouth away, and she turns a dazed expression on Takao then, one that is flushed and confused even when Takao slides her hands down to unfasten her skirt. Takao can't help being proud of that, or the way Shin-chan immediately lifts her hips when Takao begins to draw her skirt and underwear down, or especially the way Shin-chan spreads her knees wide, offering herself up to Takao, once she's naked. She's soaking wet, too, thighs slick when Takao sets her hands on them and spreads them even wider, and the scent of her arousal hangs heavy in the air. Shin-chan makes a soft sound, somewhere between shock and wonder, as Takao settles between her thighs; Takao spares a moment to grin at her before she bends her head and slides her tongue against Shin-chan, coaxing the folds of her apart. Shin-chan moans, the sound of it hoarse, and flexes up against Takao's mouth as she laps at her, tracing her tongue between Shin-chan's folds and over her clit. Takao hums back and sets her hands on Shin-chan's thighs, pressing them down and holding them in place, and works her tongue against Shin-chan. She lets the way Shin-chan moans and jerks under her palms guide her movements as she loses herself in the scent and taste and texture of Shin-chan, and all but purrs with delight at how quickly Shin-chan comes apart again. Shin-chan strains against her hands, groaning as Takao flicks her tongue against her clit, and the syllables of Takao's name never sound as sweet as they do when Shin-chan is crying out for her. 

She keeps going, circling her tongue around Shin-chan's clit and teasing it while Shin-chan shakes and gasps, then slides it down to flirt against Shin-chan's entrance. Shin-chan makes a sound then, pleading, and another when Takao teases the tip of it inside her, and _shouts_ when Takao slides her hands up to spread and hold her open for it when she licks into her. That's exactly what Takao wants; she holds Shin-chan for it and fucks her until Shin-chan screams for her, until Shin-chan has to uncurl a fist from her pillow to push her away again before she sprawls against the sheets, breathing hard and completely spent.

Yeah, that's a job well done indeed. Takao congratulates herself as she kicks the rest of her own clothes off and prowls up the bed. She props herself up on her elbow and enjoys her handiwork—the tangle of hair clinging to Shin-chan's temples, damp with sweat, and the flush on every last centimeter of Shin-chan's skin, and the completely open, blissed-out expression on Shin-chan's face. _Damn_ , she's good.

Eventually Shin-chan opens her eyes again and catches her gloating. "You are horrible," she rasps then. It loses a certain something when she can't quite keep herself from smiling as she says it. 

"Mmhm, I know I am." Takao leans down and kisses her, liking the sound Shin-chan makes when she tastes herself in Takao's mouth. She pulls back a bit and grins at Shin-chan. "What can you do about it, huh?"

This is why Shin-chan is a genius: even though she is strung out and dopey with endorphins, her eyes still spark at that dare. "I wonder," she says, husky, right before she plants a hand in the center of Takao's chest and shoves her over.

Takao sprawls onto her back and laughs with delight. "Are you going to show me something interesting, Shin-chan?"

"Wait and see," Shin-chan tells her as she levers herself up from her sprawl. Takao can only admire her for her determination, because she can _see_ that Shin-chan is still trembling in the afterglow. Her hair hangs down around her face, tumbling loose across her bare shoulders and breasts, and she is the most magnificent thing Takao has or ever will see.

She lifts her hand as Takao watches and begins peeling the tape from her fingers. With her teeth.

Takao has been hot since Shin-chan first agreed to let her undo those braids, but all of a sudden she can't quite catch a full breath and she is _aching_ with how ready she is. "Shin-chan," she whispers, mouth running dry as she watches each finger come unveiled, long and slender and far, far stronger than they look. Maybe she shouldn't be so hung up on Shin-chan's fingers, but she just can't help it, and she's squirming by the time the last piece of taping flutters free. "Oh _fuck_ , Shin-chan, please..."

Shin-chan flexes her fingers and smiles at her; it's a wicked look, for her. "I wonder," she says, softly, and sets her hand on Takao's waist. She strokes it up, over Takao's ribs and over her breast, and Takao's back comes off the bed with how good that feels, like a circuit closing and electricity jolting through her. Maybe it's just because she's spent so long on Shin-chan and been ignoring her own needs, or maybe it's the knowledge that that's Shin-chan's bare fingers stroking her. It doesn't matter; if Shin-chan keeps this up, she might just come from having her breasts played with, because each brush of those long fingers tracing over the sensitive skin of her breasts makes pleasure vibrate down Takao's spine and twist tight low in her belly.

Shin-chan seems to get that, because she lifts her hand away just as Takao can feel her body beginning to contract around the tension throbbing between her thighs. She smiles when Takao groans in disappointment and settles her fingers against Takao's lips. "Get me ready," she says.

"Shin-chan," Takao breathes, lost in admiration at how _well_ Shin-chan has learned to play these games with her. She really _is_ a genius on all counts. Shin-chan's smile stretches a bit wider; she taps her fingers against Takao's lips until Takao parts them, opening wide for Shin-chan and moaning when Shin-chan slips them into her—all four of them at once. Takao whimpers as that makes heat throb and pulse through her. She's wound so tight right now that Shin-chan could slide into her without any preparation, but she sucks on Shin-chan's fingers anyway, stroking her tongue against them and moaning with the way Shin-chan is watching her do it.

Shin-chan takes her own sweet time, until Takao is just about mindless with how much she needs to be fucked, until she's rocking her hips against the empty air for all the good that it does her. It's only then that Shin-chan slides her fingers out of Takao's mouth. "There," she says, while Takao pants. "I think that should do it." 

" _Please_ ," Takao gasps, devout as a prayer, and shouts when Shin-chan takes her at her word and slides her fingers into her, pressing two of them deep and curling them. They plunge into her with no resistance at all, and the solidness of them after so much foreplay sings up Takao's spine. She bucks against them, digging her fingers into the sheets and groaning as Shin-chan strokes them against her, but it's not enough, not really—maybe they've stretched this out for too long, because the sensation only draws her taut without offering any release. "More," Takao groans, desperate. "Fuck, Shin-chan, please, you've got to give me more than that..."

"I intend to," Shin-chan murmurs, and it's only because Takao is too caught up in the thrum of sensation and tension that she doesn't catch the velvety edge of that promise. She slips the third finger into Takao, and the stretch of it is good, is closer to what Takao needs. 

Takao pants for breath, throat dry with it as Shin-chan fucks her, sliding her fingers deep and twisting them, feeling the sensation of it hovering just out of reach. Maybe she needs her clit stimulated, maybe that will be enough—she reaches for it, but Shin-chan stops her. "No," she says, sharp enough to arrest Takao mid-reach. Before Takao can process that, let alone protest it, she draws her fingers out of Takao, who whimpers at the sudden lack and looks up at Shin-chan in bewilderment. Shin-chan _smiles_ and plunges her fingers in again, all four of them at once, fucking her hard and deep, filling her up and sliding her thumb up over Takao's clit, and that's what it takes. Takao loses track of everything but the white-hot sensation that cascades over her then, scouring her down to nothing but the pleasure raking through her. It goes on and on, so much that she might actually black out from it, because it feels like it's been a long time when she finally opens her eyes again and sees Shin-chan watching her, wearing a tiny, satisfied smile. Every muscle Takao has feels like it's turned to jelly, and it's all she can do at first to blink.

"Holy fuck," she says eventually, flailing a hand up to sink into the tangled mess of Shin-chan's hair. "You are amazing."

Shin-chan's satisfied smile turns softer as she lets Takao draw her down for a kiss, and if the words she shapes against Takao's mouth are soundless, that's all right. Takao already knows she's amazing too, anyway.


End file.
